Collateral Damage
by we make ourselves immortal
Summary: Jon is finishing his residency to become a family practitioner back in the North. He finds something he never knew he had.
1. Chapter 1

Rotation Day 1

Jon had experienced many things during his 4 years of medical school and 2 year residency. He had been assailed by the most terrible sights and smells. But, there was one thing he could not stomach. The stench of adult diapers. This was his last rotation ever. He counted to 10, took a deep breath and keyed in the code on the locked ward. It hit him immediately, the smell of old people.

Jon stood in the hall and texted Dr. Martell to let him know that he had arrived. That bought him a few minutes before he would seek out the head nurse. He reminded himself that he had to have this experience to be a competent general practitioner. He wanted to open his own practice back home. Young doctors were not attracted to the North. In fact, the only hospital in the region was Winterfell Memorial Hospital, which had been started his grandfather Rickard Stark.

He came from a family of physicians, his 3 uncles and 2 of his cousins. Robb, who was in the Army Medical Corps and Sansa who had one more year of medical school. Even, his mother Lyanna had been destined to be a doctor. She had taken the year after medical school off to volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. That was where she met and married his father, Dr. Rhaegar Targaryen. He convinced her to stay in Iraq in 1985. There Jon was born in 1986. There both his parents had died during the Iran-Iraq War. Sadden Hussein has been on a rampage against his own people. He had blown up the field hospital where his parents worked.

Jon didn't remember his parents. He was 6 months old at the time and in a childcare facility run by the British Embassy for the doctors and other civilians serving in Iraq. His Uncle Eddard and Aunt Catelyn had taken him in to live with their young son as a sibling and he had grown up at Winterfell with the rest of the Stark clan.

Dr. Martell, texted him back to say he was delayed by at least an hour and to begin rounds without him. Not what he wanted to do, but….. standing in the hall, was not such a good idea either, so he walked directly to the nurses station to introduce himself. At the circular station, sat two CNA's charting and the head nurse, Ms. Tyrell.

"You must be Dr. Stark. I'm Marg Tyrell, head nurse. I dispense medication, monitor chronic conditions and see to smooth daily operations."

"Yes, I'm Dr. Jon Stark. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tyrell."

"Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts. What time will Dr. Martell be arriving? He has a bad habit of dumping residents off in our cozy locked quarters and disappearing."

"His text estimated an hour."

"Yeah, uh huh. I won't hold my breath. Anyway, you are here. We just received a new admission. A patient transfer from Bravvos. She needs a comprehensive examination and chart check. I'll be checking her medication levels. This must be accomplished ASAP as she is quite disoriented from the move. She was very agitated when she arrived. We don't have an hour. I'm not having her stroke out on my watch."

"Then, let's get to work."

"Follow me, please, Dr. Stark. Our new patient's name is Mrs. Anna Gary. She is 55 years old and has been experiencing symptoms of early onset Alzheimer's for approximately 5 years. Her records are sketchy and read like a patchwork quilt."

Jon followed Ms. Tyrell into a dim quiet room. Facing away from the door was a slight woman rocking back and forth in a wooden rocking chair. She was humming to herself and appeared to be holding something from her posture in the chair.

"I'll review her records again, while you introduce yourself. Go ahead."

Jon was grateful that she didn't smell like old piss. And she was younger than expected. The woman had her eyes closed and her head was resting on the back of the chair. Jon noticed that she had dark brown hair with streaks of grey. He also noticed that she had burn scars on her arms, hands, neck and the left side of her forehead trailing down to her cheek. She seemed so content and calm, he felt terrible that he was intruding on her world. And what an intrusion. He took a deep breath and forged ahead.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, ." He stooped down in front of her in hopes of appearing less intimidating. "Mrs. Gary, I'm Jon. I'm here to help you settle in."

She did not seem to hear him and kept rocking and humming. She held a stuffed animal furry dog in her lap. She did smile, ever so slightly as if enjoying a dream.

"Mrs. Gary? How are you feeling today?"

"Oh, quite fine. Today is the day my husband arrives and we can finally be a family." she explained opening her grey eyes and looking straight at Jon. He blinked hard. _Grey eyes._

"That's wonderful, Mrs. Gary." replied Jon going along with her delusion.

"Oh, yes! And he will be bringing the baby with him. That's what's taking so long. All the paperwork. I hope this apartment has enough space for the crib." she continued looking around the room as if for the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon arrived home to a dark apartment. He was glad for the quiet. The day had been long and loud. He felt ashamed that his first thought was to take another shower. He had already changed out of his shirt, tie and trousers after his initial shower and a long run. Usually a good run would clear his head. But, nothing. He decided to take another shower. He needed a very hot shower and a long talk with Sansa.

When he got out of the shower 15 minutes later, after he had literally scrubbed himself raw, he smelled pizza. The lights in the rest of the apartment were on and he heard her in the kitchen. He needed conversation. He needed strength. He needed her. He needed pizza and a beer. When he got to the small kitchen, Sansa was standing there holding a cold beer out to him. She reached for him and his arms curved around her. He pressed his face into her hair, wishing she could read his thoughts. He finally took a deep breath, catching the lemon and rose water scent of her shampoo.

"I thought you'd need this." she said into his wet hair.

"What the beer or the hug?"

"Both, of course."

"Why are you always so right?"

"Just because I am. And I know you. It was the smell wasn't it?"

"Yes, that and Dr. Martell arrived two and a half hours late and….."

"Come on. Sit down. Eat. I picked up your favorite on my way home from study group."

Sansa pulled Jon to their kitchen table and pushed a plate with a gigantic slice of pizza laying across it and a big paper towel over to him as he sat down defeated. She sat down next to him and looked directly at him.

"So tell me." she demanded and bit the tip of the pizza off. "Always the tip first."

"Get your own piece!"

"I will as soon as you talk to me, honestly."

"Honestly? You know I can only admit this to you. I'm scared."

"Scared of old people. What are you going to do when we're old? Go running and screaming through the streets?"

"That's not it. Of all of the diseases, conditions and injuries I've seen, this is the worst. It robs people of their lives."

"Well, not exactly in a technical sense. Their quality of life is diminished considerably, to say the least."

"I can't look at it from an aloof medical, just solve the problem, textbook point of view."

"Explain it then. I need to understand."

"I don't know. I just keep thinking about the things they told me. One lady kept asking for her car keys, another one told me that she had to finish checking her classes' math papers. Then she kept trying to teach me the Pythagorean theorem when I convinced her that she was caught up. That lasted for about five minutes. Then she cycled back to her unfinished math papers. One elderly man kept reciting a list of building materials to build a bridge. The CNA on duty explained that he had been a civil engineer. Another man, kept trying to ask the ladies to come and take a nap with him."

"That's known as Sundowning, right? Where peoples' confusion increases and delusions become more pronounced later in the afternoon. I have read about that behavior."

"It's just that it was more than confused behaviors or thoughts. These people really seem to believe these things at that point in time. It's coming from so deep in the brain that it seems true to them."

"If that ever happens to me, just shoot me."

"No, Sansa, it's not even a joke. I don't know where to put it in my head. The worst was early this morning. I had to examine a new admission. This lady wasn't that old. She was just 55 and had early onset Alzheimer's. She had scars from what looked like a chemical fire. She was so happy. She told me that she was waiting for her husband. He was bringing their baby and they could finally be a family. All she was worried about was having room for a crib."

"Reliving a happy moment in her past. Is that so terrible? You said she was happy."

"Happy all day long, waiting for her husband and child. Mrs. Gary, the records showed no husband and no baby. All the records showed was that she was a foreign language translator who had worked and traveled in the Middle East, Essos, and then Bravos, where she started to act strangely at her job a couple of years ago. Her employers assumed she had brain trauma from what ever accident gave her the terrible burns. She even wore a Burka to cover them at times. She was nobody. She had nobody. So she was put in a mental institution until Dr. Martell found her a month ago and brought her here."

"How did he find her?"

"Dr. Martell is researching early onset Alzheimer's and he has collected a data base of cases and suspected cases. He was examining potential candidates for his study. He determined that she didn't have a traumatic brain injury and since she was Westerosi he would include her, to return her to Westeros and get her out of the mental institution."

"That's an amazing story. But how did he realize that she was actually Westerosi?"

"Even weirder. He said it was her eyes. Grey eyes."

"True, it's a very small percentage of people that have grey eyes. Doesn't sound data driven to me."

"He didn't elaborate. Perhaps, he's looking at a genetic sequence that displays similar to dominant/recessive eye colors. Although I don't think that's complex enough. I don't know. All I know, is that she waited all day long for her husband and baby and I know they will never come. And she will be waiting again tomorrow."

"Unless she has a different delusion that she perseverates on tomorrow. Honey, this is really upsetting you. Let's just eat our pizza and snuggle on the couch and watch something mindlessly entertaining like South Park."

Their conversation worried Sansa. She had never seen Jon so unnerved. He was always her rock. She was trying to meet his emotions with clean and clinical observations. But, he was right. It sounded sad, scary, and pathetic because there was no cure. No solution.

Jon fell asleep on the couch with his arms around her waist and head on her shoulder. She had an 8 AM class and he had to meet Dr. Martell at the Alzheimer's wing by 7:30 tomorrow morning. She hoped he would be there on time for Jon's sake. Sansa tousled his hair to drag him off to bed. For propriety, they each had separate bedrooms, but they usually slept in his big comfy bed.

"Jon, let's go to bed," Sansa whispered as she attempted to rouse him.

After a few seconds of rubbing his eyes, he yawned in reply and began to get up. He caught her hand and allowed Sansa to lead him into the bedroom. They crawled into bed together in their tee shirts and sweats.

"Spoon with me." he pleaded pulling her close into him.

"Every night of my life, Jon. Every night."


	3. Chapter 3

Rotation Day 2

Jon got a text at 5 AM from Dr. Martell asking him to meet him at his office at the University of Westeros Medical School. Anything was better than going to the Alzheimer's wing alone.

"Jon, you have worked life and death situations in the ER. I know you can do this." Sansa encouraged as she packed their lunches during breakfast. "And you have leftover pizza for lunch! I promise to be home early and we can cook a good meal tonight. Veal chops and a healthy spinach salad?"

"Give me a kiss that I can hang onto all day." Jon said pulling her to him before he left. He held on to her so tight, like she could challenge this reality. Their kiss was long and deep, cherishing every second their lips prayed each other's name into breath and desire. Desire that would have to wait.

Jon arrived at Dr. Martell's office and was surprised to see him already deep in charts and data.

"Good that you decided to join me, Dr. Stark."

"It's an honor, Dr. Martell."

"Don't worry about honor right now. It's hard work. In the mornings, we will work on creating a genetic profile or series of genetic profiles beyond the PSEN 1 and PSEN 2 markers. Essentially, I would like to parse out the Familial Early Onset APP marker from this early onset of unknown origin. I would like to find out if there is even a genetic marker. Of the total Alzheimer's population only 5% is Early Onset. But, 5% is significant. We could make a discovery of some importance, you realize."

"Yes, Dr. Martell, I do. I'm not afraid of hard work. When I return to Winterfell, it will be all hard work."

"You come from a most distinguished family, young man. That is why I choose you, not just for this rotation, but to work with me on this study. Now, in the afternoons, we will be working to develop a protocol to ameliorate, if possible, some slight portion of the confusion and agitation of Sundowning."

"I understand Dr. Martell."

"You have only had one day on the wing. I doubt that you do from more than a clinical perspective. Any decrease in Sundowning behaviors is just as much for the families as the patients. Not only is it disconcerting for family members, many of whom visit daily after work, but it deprives our residents of positive interactions. Imagine, coming to visit your family member after a long day at work and they are caught in the Sundowning effect. They are in such full on perseveration over some minor detail from the past that they cannot focus on their visitors. Then at bedtime, they become agitated or depressed and unable to sleep without medication, because they don't remember the visit. It is a vicious spiral. Anger, guilt, depression. I could go on and on."

"So what do you want me to do?" asked Jon.

"Observe, interact, make notes. Make environmental changes, change the lighting. Keep it daytime bright, that is my first thought. And talk. Talk and relate to our residents. Look for triggers and changes. Do what ever it takes. Every day from 2 to 6 PM. Then go home and clear your head and your heart."

At lunch, Jon reheated last night's pizza. Sansa had left a ziplock filled with fruit and a napkin with a pink lipstick kiss on it in a separate snack size ziplock. When he opened it to press his lips to hers, he caught her lemongrass, mandarin and sandalwood essential oils mix that she smoothed on every night after her shower. He was the luckiest man alive and he knew it. He put the special ziplock in his pocket for the long afternoon. He was going to need it.

Jon arrived at the Alzheimer's wing and stood in front of the keypad to the locked unit. It was like going through a magic portal to another world. He keyed in the magic numbers and the latch on the other side clicked. He took a deep breath and stepped through the Tardis door. He headed straight to the nurse's station to speak with Ms. Tyrell.

"You came back, Dr. Stark. I had faith in you. Not everybody is ready for all this. Sensory overload. Mental health overload."

"How did you know?"

"That's how I felt too. Only difference is I went through this with my Grandmother. We kept her at home as long as we could. I can still see my father changing her diapers. Huge tears rolling down his cheeks. All the while, she kept hitting him and yelling rape."

"I'm sorry. This is all so new to me. It's all been textbooks and lectures before now. I'm so thankful that my family is healthy."

"It's ok. Grandmother Olenna is the reason I'm here. There are no heroes. Just people doing what they know they have to do. Please call me Marg. We try to avoid titles here. Just more confusion. You'll see."

"I thought about that. Yesterday, I just introduced myself as Jon. But, I was overdressed. I thought maybe khakis and a polo would work better. It didn't penetrate at the time. Then this morning, I realized you were wearing a pretty flowered dress instead of scrubs."

"Yes, I want my people to feel comfortable. I'm just a friend dropping over for a visit to see how they are doing. A pretty girl in a pretty dress can get her way. Especially with the men, but that's another story for another time. I have to continue my med rounds. Thanks for coming back, Jon. I'm here if you need me."

Jon changed his clothes and walked into the large day room as lemonade was being served. Residents were sitting at round tables, some chatting at each other in non sequiturs and some chatting to the air.

"Bartender…." called a well groomed white haired man. Jon made a mental note to learn the names of all 20 residents immediately, if not sooner.

"Yes sir."

"Lannister is the name. Mayor of Lannisport, to you. Enough of this sweet shit. Get me a drink. Let my wife drink her lemonade, I need a scotch neat."

"I do my best, Mr. Lannister."

"And bartender, don't let my wife catch you. She doesn't want the children to inherit any of my bad habits. She doesn't indulge."

Jon walked quickly out the door and when in search of Marg. How did they deal with inappropriate and impossible requests? He was already fucking up.

"Marg, Mr. Lannister asked for a scotch. What am I supposed to do? He called me, bartender. What will happen if I tell him we don't have any?"

"That's your basic introduction to Mr. Lannister. He calls all the men bartender around this time in the afternoon. Oh, I don't mean to laugh. We mix up some Diet Coke, a dash of bitters, and tamari sauce. Don't forget he wants it neat! You'll find the ingredients in the staff fridge. And be quick about it or he'll be yelling for the bartender."

"Thanks so much." he said running off to attempt to create this concoction. He still had to pass it off to Mr. Lannister.

"Mr. Lannister, here is your drink. Sorry for the delay." Jon handed it to the old man with a shaking hand hoping it would mollify him.

Mr. Lannister swirled the drink around and then took a sip. "You pour a fine drink, young man. I shall keep my eye out for you."

"Thank you, sir."

Jon took that as his dismissal. He turned quickly and walked away. He had not seen Mrs. Gary in the day room. He hoped that she wasn't sitting in her room waiting for her husband and baby. But, he had to go find out. He walked slowly down the hall to her room. With each step, he was seized with the idea of turning around and getting Mr. Lannister another drink. That would be easier.

Mrs. Gary's door was slightly ajar. He knocked anyway. Light was streaming in from her window and she was sitting in the rocking chair again. She made eye contact with him immediately and smiled.

"Mrs. Gary, may I come in?"

"Of course. Tell me, has the crib arrived?

"Why no ma'am, it hasn't. You selected such a special crib that it is still on order. Perhaps, tomorrow."

"Oh, I hope so. My husband will be arriving soon and where will we put the baby?"

Jon looked around for the ottoman to the rocking chair so he could continue their conversation face to face, rather than tower over her. His goal was to be reassuring not imposing. It was against the far wall. He pulled it over and positioned it in front of her and sat down.

"Not to worry."

"You know, when we first brought him home from hospital, I had to empty out a drawer and line it with towels. Now that we're going to be back in Westeros for a while, nothing but the best will do."

"Have you been out of the country for a long time?"

"Just under 2 years. I insisted that our son be brought up near my family. So here we are. Rather, here I am waiting. So much bureaucracy and paperwork."

"Everything will work out."

"Yes, I have a good feeling."

"I realize you've hardly had time to settle in, I was wondering if you have made any friends?"

"Just you, dear. And the landlord's daughter. She's been so sweet. Such a lovely young lady. Dropping in to see how I'm getting on with unpacking. Are you the landlord's son?"

"No ma'am. Just the caretaker."

"Well,you are doing a fine job helping me out. Can you tell me how I can get telephone service? I have one in the bedroom, but there is only static on the line. I want to call my father. He doesn't know I'm back. I want to surprise him. Especially, with the baby."

"I'll check on it right away, Mrs. Gary." Jon responded carefully. He wasn't sure how much of the delusion he should feed into. She was happy and he was determined not to say or do anything that would alter that. He had to check with Marg.

"I have to finish my daily inspection, so I must go. I'll be back in a bit and I hope to have an answer for you."

Before he could get up, Mrs. Gary reached over and patted his knee. Her grey eyes met his and he could see the thin lines that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. He couldn't tell if she was going to laugh or cry. She smiled.

"You just get going with your duties. I don't want you to get into trouble for me. I'll be right here. My husband will be arriving soon. And he's bringing our son. Finally a family again. Thank you so much Jon."

"I'll be back, I promise." he said and left the room pulling the door back into its original position.

Wow, that was intense. The conversation sounded so normal and casual. Except that it wasn't.

He headed back down the hall to the day room, where he heard a commotion. It was Mr. Lannister. This time he was not alone. He had a visitor. Must be one of his children. The man was tall and blond and had similar features. They were having a strenuous conversation.

"Bartender, where did you disappear to? That was the best scotch, I've had all day. Bring me another and one for my brother."

"Father, I'm Jamie. Not Uncle Kevan." said the man.

Jon didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to intrude on their conversation. Unfortunately, he would be documenting all of it in his clinical notes. He told himself to keep it in the professional folder on the doctor's desktop he had created in his mind. He didn't like to bring things home. Even though he could share anything with Sansa. He was teaching her how to set up her mental doctor's desktop. She was better at compartmentalizing things than he was. He was fine on the spot and kept calm in the middle of any catastrophe. However, he was so self analyzing and critical of himself. Could he have done better?

"Bartender, our drinks." Mr. Lannister was yelling now as his son tried in vain to get him to lower his voice.

"Dad, please!"

"I'll be right back with your drinks, gentlemen. Jon made a mental note to introduce himself to Mr. Lannister's son. He didn't want him to think that he was actually bringing him scotch. Well, he would realize it, when he returned with the concoction. He headed for the staff fridge and mixed up another drink. In the other glass he only poured Diet Coke.

"Here you are, Mr. Lannister." He placed the Diet Coke in front of the son.

"I'm Jamie Lannister, much to my father's objections." said Jamie extending his hand to Jon.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm the new resident here on this wing." he began and then corrected himself when Jamie gave him a quizzical look. "No, I mean…." Jon continued as he leaned in to shake hands and lowered his voice, "I'm Dr. Jon Stark. I'm finishing my residency working with Dr. Martell on his study."

"I get it. You are just the kind of bartender we need at this establishment." replied Jamie with an extra pump in his handshake.

"Thank you for the scotch. My father is right. It's the best scotch I've had all day."

"Fantastic. I'll leave you men to your conversation."

Jon went in search of Marg again. What was the answer to the telephone question? He could just picture Mrs. Gary trying to key in an old phone number. Of course, there would only be static. Or worse, the number was probably recycled to another landline and it would just ring and ring and ring. Nobody ever answered a landline anymore, if they still had one in their home. They didn't even have one in their apartment. He knew that Uncle Eddard and Aunt Catelyn had actual phones at home when they were growing up. He and Robb had Bat phones in their rooms as kids. Wonder what ever happened to those prize possessions?

"You need to figure that one out for yourself, Doctor." Marg laughed. "Besides you don't have to give her an answer today."

"I promised."

"I don't mean to sound harsh. She isn't going to remember what she asked you today and she is going to ask you again tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. It's just the way Alzheimer's works. You're going to have to make a paradigm shift. You have to get into their sideways world and make your responses accordingly."

"Then, I can just tell her the truth about the telephone. It will take a few days to get any phone company to come fix a phone, ha!"

"You've got that right, just try getting new cable service….. maybe an appointment in 2 weeks." laughed Marg.

Jon returned to Mrs. Gary just before he left for the evening. There was a tray of dinner, barely touched. She was watching some generic movie on TV.

"You came back to see me."

"I promised I would."

"So few people keep their promises. Even little ones."

"I found out that the phone is going to take a few days to get fixed. Appointments and everything."

"That's ok. I'm not going anywhere. I'm waiting for the crib, Remember?"


	4. Chapter 4

When Jon arrived home, he took his work sneakers off outside the door. Sansa kept their apartment immaculate and he wanted to respect the care she took of their sanctuary. Especially, the care she took of him. He desperately wanted a shower.

"Well don't just stand out there. Get in here, shower and lets make dinner. I want you to tell me about you day." She called down the hall as he stepped inside.

"Ok, I'm going. It's a lot. A shower will help."

Sansa already had the veal marinating. They were still going to cook together. She knew that just doing something simple like preparing a meal would help Jon decompress. He could chop the carrots, slice tomatoes, clean the spinach and rinse the chick peas, before adding the balsamic vinaigrette and sunflower seeds, if he needed to.

She had prepared a couple of surprises in the bathroom also. There was bar of black charcoal and Greek sea salt soap and a new luffa in the shower. She wanted him to feel cleansed without abrading himself to death. Finally, she had mixed bergamot essential oil into some almond oil for a calming massage. That was for later.

Jon dropped his clothing into the hamper they used for the clothes they wore to work. Sansa got to wear either scrubs or her preferred rounds outfit of white blouses and plain skirts. The water took a minute to get hot enough. He smiled to himself when he saw the new luffa and soap. Only Sansa. He took a quick, but through shower so he could get back to her and dinner. Jon came out of the bathroom laughing.

"You worried about me or something? You even left out my favorite gym shorts and old torn football tee shirt." Said Jon entering their kitchen.

"What about the luffa and the soap?" She asked walking over to Jon. She sniffed at his neck and nipped at his ear. "Love the scent. Like the ocean."

"I truly appreciate all these thoughtful touches. You do realize that? Where would I be without you by my side?" Jon held Sansa's hands and kissed each fingertip.

"Um….in the Army with Robb.

"You're right. Let's make dinner before it gets any later. Is the veal in the oven?" Jon asked.

"Of course. Get these veggies chopped and in the bowl before the chops burn."

"Are we cooking by smoke detector again?"

"That was one time and it wouldn't happen if we had a grill."

"I promise to buy a grill as big as Uncle Ned's when we build our house. Ok?

Jon couldn't help but watch her smile at his promise. She knew he meant it. They finished preparing the salad together. Sansa checked the veal chops and got them out of the broiler when they looked ready. Medium with just a slight char. They carried the food to the table and began dinner and the conversation they were both waiting for all day.

"Thanks for making the extra effort with the soap, the luffa and my favorite clothes. And the dinner as well. You didn't have to. I've lived through your schedule."

"But, I want to do these things. So never mind, because, I'm not going to stop. I'm dying to hear about your day. I worried about you and the old people smell."

Actually, Dr. Martell, kind of gave me a schedule within my comfort zone. In the morning, he wants me to work in the lab developing a genetic profile for early onset. There is a profile for familial early onset, but nobody knows why some people just manifest the signs in their 50's.

"Wow. That's more than you expected. And interesting too. I love research. I can get so into looking for patterns."

"However, and I mean however…. Every afternoon, he wants me in the unit researching sundowning. I actually think he's interested in ameliorating the negative effects, if possible. I'd say this is his real interest and the genetics part just pays the bills. So many grants for research in the lab and very little when it comes to quality of life."

"I can't imagine what it would feel like to not recognize your loved ones."

"More like, your loved ones don't recognize you."

"Sure is a double edged sword."

"That cuts to the quick either way. Funny part. I got called bartender today."

"That's novel. So does that mean you'll do the dishes?"

"I only do speciality drinks."

They cleared the table together with little exchanges of kisses and touches of fingertips gliding along exposed skin. Jon mostly trying to squeeze Sansa's knees to make her giggle or Sansa skimming her fingers down Jon's muscled back, thinking about the massage surprise she had for him in her bedroom.

As they rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Sansa began her questioning in earnest. "So, Bartender, what's the deal?"

"It's funny but not. When I got to the unit, they were having lemonade and juice. You know, kind of an afternoon snack, but this one patient just wouldn't have it. I walked into the main day room and this guy, just looked at me and demanded that I sneak him a real drink. He told me that his wife didn't approve of him drinking scotch so early in the day. She didn't want their kids to pick up his bad habits."

"What did you do?"

"I went to the Head Nurse, Marg. She's great. You'd like her sense of humor and dedication. Plus, she has crazy ideas that work. She told me to go with the delusion, rather than fight it."

"So…"

"I guess he does this all the time. She had a recipe of Diet Coke, bitters and tamari sauce. I made it and served it to him. He told me it was a very fine drink."

"You're shitting me. He drank that? Scotch tastes awful anyway, so I guess…."

"Yeah, and he turns out to be the former Mayor of Lannisport, Tywin Lannister. Told me he'd keep his eye out for me."

"Strange, but I get it. He's in his own time zone when he was probably happiest."

"Hard to tell, don't know enough about him. Later on, his son was visiting and he thought he was with his brother. His son was so frustrated. And Mr. Lannister wanted another round of drinks."

"Another round?"

"I did a replay of the drink for him and a Diet Coke for his son. Best drink, he had all day, he said!"

"I don't know how people do it. I can't begin…. I wonder? How can that man's son bring his kids to visit their grandfather?"

"I don't know if he does or if it's too painful. It's painful to me and I don't know these people, really. I understand Dr. Martell's motivation. A way to make things less stressful and frustrating for everyone."

"I think as physicians, we get so focused on the patient, we can forget about their support system and that they need support too. You know, a holistic approach."

Jon pulled Sansa to him and they stood in the kitchen in each other's arms. Quietly. Gently. Just breathing together. Sort of swaying to some music in their heads. Of course, they had been together so long, it would be the same song….Perfect.

"Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms, barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song." Jon whispered into her hair as he rested his head against hers.

"You didn't start at the beginning."

"I don't care. I just like this moment. You, in my arms. Dancing to our favorite song, barefoot in the kitchen….. you're perfect for me."

"Come with me. I want to make it perfect for you." whispered Sansa tugging Jon down the hall into her bedroom. "You finish telling me about the rest of your day while I give you a massage. You're scrubbing your skin to death."

"It's the smell. Piss and delusion. This disease is so inhumane. It steals memories or leaves people reliving the same memories over and over. I don't know which is worse."

Sansa sat him down on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Jon acquiesced, allowing Sansa to climb on the bed and seat herself behind him. She retrieved her oil from the nightstand and poured some into her hand. As she began to rub, the bergamot oil bloomed with the heat of Jon's skin and her caress. She could feel his shoulders relax as she traced circles across his back and down his lats.

"So did you see your new patient today? Mrs. Gary?"

"Yes, she asked if I was the landlord's son. She thinks the head nurse is the landlord's daughter."

"Who's the landlord?"

"Don't know. She didn't give a clue. I told her I was only the caretaker."

"Oh, Jon."

"She said that her husband and baby hadn't arrived yet. She wants phone service so she can call her father. She wants to surprise him. Said she had been away for 2 years."

"So her point of reference is?"

"I don't know. I only know mine. It's this moment right here, right now, with you. Over and over, if I have to remember anything, it will be you."

"Hey Siri, play Perfect. Play it over and over again."


	5. Chapter 5

Rotation Day 3

Jon woke up on his back with Sansa tangled around him. Her left leg fell over his hip and her arm draped over his chest. Her right arm was under him, and her hand lay on his outstretched palm. She was breathing softly, eyelids fluttering in sleep. Jon didn't want to move. He wanted to listen to her breath, slow and calm. He wanted to take in and memorize this moment of peace before the world claimed them both. Jon lay quietly just feeling the heat of her hand on his. How she trusts me and gives me everything in her heart. I will make her dreams happen. I will give her everything.

It was only 4'clock in the morning and he had at least another hour and a half to sleep. Jon closed his eyes and let his breath match, let his heart beat, with Sansa's. He drifted back to sleep.

She was crying, inconsolable tears. They had sent the wrong crib, This one was too small and the bedding was all pink. I have a little boy, she sobbed. A beautiful little boy. This will not due. They will arrive at any time now. My baby, my beautiful little boy. I've been waiting so long to hold him in my arms. It's been so long. Will he even know me? Will he remember me, his own mother?

Jon's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright trying to awaken fully from this dream. Mrs. Gary crying. Worrying that her baby would not remember her. Ironic. She was worried about memory. He wondered if her son was even alive. What had happened to that woman? She was lost. Waiting for a moment that would never come.

"Baby, what is it? Sansa asked still more asleep than awake.

"A strange dream. Mrs. Gary crying over receiving the wrong crib. And crying about her baby boy, worrying that he wouldn't recognize her,"

"Jon, you have to maintain. You can't let this get to you. You are going to find a way to ameliorate the pain, the loss. I know you, You can do it."

"I just want to finish this rotation and work in the ER until you're done. Then we are going home. Get properly married, open a practice, have kids, just live, and do our best to help others."

"Come snuggle with me. It's 15 more minutes until the alarm. I need you to hold me." Sansa pleaded.

Jon continued to sit on the bed and a rubbed his eyes as if he could erase the dream. Sansa pulled herself around Jon and sat on his lap facing him. She pulled his hands from his eyes and held them tight.

"You'll make wrinkles if you continue to rub. Jon, you can't drop your professional demeanor."

"And I won't. This is too weird though. It hits me in the unconscious. The loss of my mother, I don't even remember her. Aunt Catelyn is the only mother I've ever known. And this woman waiting for a son that will never come. I don't like to feel vulnerable, but this brings up an issue I didn't even know I had. I never knew my mother, so I never mourned her. To watch Mrs. Gary…."

Sansa stopped his words with a kiss. She pressed lips to his and demanded. "Dr. Stark, I have emergency. I need you to fuck me now."

She pushed him back on the bed and ground her pelvis down on him. He was hard. Sansa wasted no time pushing her shorts down and pulling his cock out of his sweats. Jon lifted Sansa up just enough for her to guide him into her core. She rocked against him until Jon grabbed her by the ass and flipped her over. He was determined to fuck her into the depth of her desire. Their eyes met and held. They both loved to watch each other during lovemaking.

"Are you mine, Dr. Stark?" He asked between kisses.

"I am yours and you are mine, Dr. Stark." She responded into his next kiss.

Suddenly the alarm began to chime loudly. They did not stop. Jon pushed harder into Sansa and she opened to him until there was no space between them. Sansa tightened around his cock and they moved together. Jon forgot his dream and only thought about the woman in his arms. He let himself fall into her eyes. Consumed by need he pulled her t shirt up to expose her breasts. Jon gently kissed a path from one nipple to the other lingering on the perfect hollow in between. The place he loved to lay his head, when they had time. The alarm finally gave up after 5 minutes. Jon continued to thrust into Sansa and she wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. He could feel the walls of her cunt pulse and she gripped his back with her nails digging in. The sound of their bodies colliding and gasps from Sansa, pushed Jon to quicken his pace.

"Jon forget the world."

"You are my whole world."

Jon continued to thrust into her with every breath, going deeper to bring her to orgasm. She whispered his name with each kiss. He answered with his fingers sweeping her breasts, moving down toward her clit. It didn't take much more than his touch to bring Sansa toward orgasm. He could feel it building in her core as she tightened around his cock. He too, was on the edge of coming hard into her. Together they moved in rhythm with each other. Pushing harder and deeper. Sansa tightened her grasp on Jon's shoulders and screamed out his name as she came. Jon grunted in pleasure and pushed fully into Sansa as he came exploding into her.

"Sorry, it was a bit rushed." Jon apologized as he rolled of Sansa.

"Never apologize for an orgasm. Work really gets in the way of spontaneous sex."

Thirty minutes later Jon rushed out door, after a quick shower and wearing charcoal grey khaki pants and the ocean blue Polo Sansa had given him for Christmas last year. He could wear his lab coat in the morning and then be set for his job as "bartender or caretaker" on the unit.

The morning flew by. He hardly noticed. He didn't have a chance to look at the sexy texts he'd gotten from Sansa. Lunch time, but oh fuck….. They hadn't had time to make lunches this morning. Jon walked out to his car to figure out what to do. First, he had to answer Sansa's texts. He'd worry about lunch later.

 **Love your morning wood**

 **Dr Stark so glad you make house calls**

 **Remembering this AM makes me cream my thong**

 **Oops my thong is long gone**

Jon thought for a minute. He had to step out of professional mode and find his sexy. Anything for Sansa. Note to self…pick up some yellow roses on the way home….florist not grocery store. Call the florist now! Jon shot back one text referencing each of Sansa's in appropriate order.

 **My weirwood is all because of you**

 **Totally on call for you my love**

 **So we're having cream pie for desert?**

 **Wish I had that thong in my pocket**

Jon punched in the code to the unit and walked down the hall. To his surprise, Mrs. Gary was standing in the hall in front of the day room. She appeared to be waiting for someone. She was waiting for him.

"Jon, I've been waiting for you. I didn't know your schedule."

"I'm on the clock now. All afternoon."

"I have something of yours. You dropped it yesterday in my apartment." she said handing him the ziplock snack bag. "You're a lucky man, you have a romantic wife. I hope you don't mind that I opened it. I could smell the scent even on the outside. Sandalwood and lemon. Just lovely."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gary. I am very lucky to have her." Jon was processing this conversation as they spoke. She was totally lucid and in control. "How has your day been?"

"Decided to get out of my apartment. Went for a walk outside. Met a couple of elderly people that live in the building. And waiting. Actually waiting for you."

"Again, Mrs Gary. Thanks for saving my good luck charm."

Jon was amazed that they were carrying on a totally coherent conversation. Most the residents had not presented in a lucid manner. Mrs. Gary took him by surprise.

"I knew you needed it. I better let you get on with your rounds. I'm sure you have much to do today."

"I'll catch you later, I promise."

"I know you will." She reached out and touched his shoulder, then smiled and walked back down the hall to her room.

Jon stuffed the ziplock deep into his pocket, laughing to himself that he would tell Sansa to put her thong in a ziplock too. He wanted to confer with Marg. Ask about how people lapse into and out of clarity. No textbooks or lectures had prepared him for the reality of all this.

"Oh, yes. Some days patients know exactly where they are and some days they don't. It's hard to tell. It can flip at any minute. I always hate the late afternoons. The Sundowning, you know." answered Marg.

"Mrs. Gary was waiting for me when I arrived. I lost a little something in her room."

"I noticed that Mrs. Gary had finally left her room. She has been out and about all day. Spent a lot of time in the garden. So far she's having an excellent day."

"I'm going to spend my afternoon hanging out…"

"Bartender, bartender! Are you ignoring me?"

"No sir. On my way."

"My friend, Mr. Frey and I need a scotch."

"Coming right up sir."

Jon was grateful that he already knew the drill with Mr. Lannister. Now, he could spend some time interacting with them. Mr. Frey was talking about a bridge he was building across the Green Fork of the Trident River. He quickly returned with the 'scotches' and a coke for himself. He sat down and joined the two men.

"It will revolutionize travel from the Riverlands to the North." boasted Mr. Frey.

"I've been pushing for improving our infrastructure for years. As Mayor, I've improved our ports and had constant dredging done and cleared the paperwork for dock expansion." added Mr. Lannister.

Jon was trying to do a quick calculation of the age of the bridge. It had always been there for as long as he could remember. He would Google it later.

"So, when was the bridge finished?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

"Ha, finished, young man! Frey and Sons Bridge Construction, Inc. That's funny. It's going to take another 3 years, the way my sons are working. They have a hard time following directions when I'm out of town. But, I needed this vacation."

"Today, all you have to worry about is how much of our hard earned money our wives are spending on their shopping spree." laughed Mr. Lannister.

"Thank you, gentlemen for your time." Jon said as he got up to go.

"Don't you disappear, young man. We're going to need refills before our wives return." said Mr. Frey.

"Don't worry. I'm on duty all afternoon."

Jon heard commotion going on outside in the garden. Marg was out there with Mrs. Gary. She had apparently gotten scissors from Marg's Med cart and was cutting roses from a bush. She was grasping her bouquet so tightly that the thorns had pierced her skin. Blood was dripping down her arm. Marg had her by the wrist with the scissors still tightly gripped in Mrs. Gary's hand. Jon rushed out the door and addressed Mrs. Gary, who was demanding that Marg let go of her.

"Mrs. Gary…. I realize that I let the roses get too spindly. It's my job to do the pruning. I've been so busy." he continued calmly and apologetically. "It's my fault."

This stopped Mrs. Gary as she turned to look at Jon. She suddenly looked so sad. The scissors fell from her hand and clattered to the ground. Marg breathed a sigh of relief and quickly retrieved them. Jon shot her a glance to indicate he would intervene. Marg let go of her. Jon extended his hand to Mrs. Gary. She took it and he stepped closer to her.

"I didn't even think. I'm so sorry. Will you get into trouble?"

"No, ma'am. Please let me help you. The thorns have cut your hand. Let me….."

"I just wanted some of these roses for my apartment. They're almost as beautiful as the blue roses from our garden at home."


	6. Chapter 6

Jon guided Mrs. Gary to the small treatment room which was discretely tucked behind a locked door beside the nurse's station. He held her by one hand and placed his other at the small of her back.

"Mrs. Gary, I have to examine your hand. You do realize you're bleeding." asked Jon calmly

"All roses have thorns, beauty always comes with a price. I just wanted a bouquet for my apartment. So few of my things have arrived."

"I understand. You should have just asked me. Now, please let go of the flowers and allow me to treat your hand."

"I'm fine."

"Please trust me. I'll bring you a rose plant tomorrow. You can put it on a window sill. It will grow.

These won't last."

She released the flowers dropping them to the floor. She watched Jon as he snapped on blue latex gloves in order to examine her hand. He turned on the water and checked the temperature. Mrs. Gary extended her hand. Jon took it carefully and began to rinse it.

"It's not bad, I've been through much worse."

"That doesn't mean that I don't have to check and treat your hand."

Jon couldn't decide if he should just tell he that he was a doctor. He didn't know how she would act, if she would pull away or continue to cooperate. He just decided to talk and distract her.

"So what kind of roses to you like?"

"Love them all. Still, the most beautiful are the blue roses."

"My wife, loves yellow roses, all the shades of yellow."

"I have read that because blue roses are so rare, they represent the desire for the unattainable. Do you think that's true?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Gary. I don't know."

On his way home, Jon stopped at the florist. He retrieved his order of two dozen golden yellow roses. He lucked out on his promise to Mrs. Gary. The shop had two miniature blue rose bushes. He bought them both. He was mentally exhausted. He was also angry with himself. He felt like a wimp. He had sailed through all of his rotations, before this one. Choosing family practice required that he understand all aspects of life, from beginning to end. Yeah, the end, he could have skipped this, but this was reality. He knew that he would have to deal with Alzheimer's in his practice. And perhaps, this really was his chance to make a difference as Sansa had reminded him. She was always right.

Sansa was still at study group, when Jon got home. He went through the apartment snapping on lights and turning on the TV. He wanted some normal life. He left the big bouquet on the kitchen counter knowing that Sansa enjoyed arranging the flowers. Every moment, every moment is important. I want to remember the look of concentration on her face as she places each rose, just so.

Jon was already showered and dressed when Sansa got home. He was in the kitchen on his laptop reading yet another research paper on Alzheimer's. She instinctively knew something was amiss. The TV was on the evening news, with the anchor blathering unnoticed. He looked up when she walked in, still in her scrubs.

"Ok, what's up?"

"What?"

"It's dinner time and you're still working. Remember, we morph back into people every time we can be together."

"I got dinner started. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Well sort of. I'm defrosting the soup Aunt Cat left for us and I got the bread, cheese and sandwich press out."

"When you want tomato soup, I know something is up. And grilled cheese. That's our best dinner ever meal, when Mom was running late and we were a growling pack of kids. She used to flips those sandwiches into a huge pile in minutes."

"Robb and I devoured four each, easy. Then slurped our soup until Aunt Cat gave us the look."

"Your nostalgia is showing. And the roses?"

"The roses are….. because you do things like this for me."

"Things like what?"

"Like rescue me." He whispered kissing her softly on the forehead.

Jon closed his laptop and began cooking, rather assembling their meal, while Sansa showered and changed. Over dinner, Jon began to describe the two events with Mrs. Gary. He finished as he watched her arrange the roses in an old carnival glass vase they had found antiquing after they had decided to live together. It was the first thing they bought as a couple.

"So lucid one moment. I mean when she gave me the ziplock, she even identified the scents. We had a real conversation. You know, outside of the fact that she sees her room as an apartment in a building somewhere. She knows she's in Westeros. Then later, cutting the roses. In a way there isn't anything crazy about it, if she believes she's in the garden."

"I've never seen you unnerved by anything. You're angry with yourself aren't you?"

"I guess I am. It's not that I'm afraid. I just don't like to feel weak. It's something about the nature of the disease. To lose what is most precious to you. Then you don't even know you lost it. Or all you can remember is what you have lost and fervently believe it will be returned to you."

"I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to Mom or Dad. Or if they didn't know me. If they didn't remember us."

"That's what is so scary. Not remembering and subconsciously, I wonder about my parents. I don't remember them."

"That's ridiculous, you were a baby. Stop torturing yourself for something you had no control over!"

"Somewhere in the universe, there was a day, when I was held in my mother's arms and I looked up into her eyes. I saw her. I knew her. In my mind, I have this image of my parents, taking turns holding me all swaddled up. I hate this feeling sorry for myself, when I never before realized I even had anything to feel sorry about. I hate that I only know from some old pictures of her face, how beautiful her smile was."

"Jon, don't! Our whole lives have been wonderful. Don't do this to yourself. You know, if you hadn't done this fucking rotation, you never would have thought of this. Ever."

"Probably not. Or not until the day I hold our baby in my arms and look into her beautiful blue eyes."


	7. Chapter 7

Rotation Day 4

Jon slept fitfully all night. He and Sansa spooned into each other. Jon listened to Sansa's breath and measured his to match hers. They called it team breathing. He used to sit with kids on the pediatric unit with cystic fibrosis and they would breathe together. Usually in the middle of the night, when parents had gone home and the hospital was quiet.

He slept past his first two alarms, then got up and ready in record time. Just as he was about to step out the door, he turned around and went back to Sansa. She was still asleep with a pillow over her head to block out the alarms. Jon carefully pulled back a corner of the pillow, exposing a tangle of red hair. He bent over her and brushed a few strands of hair away from her ear. Jon caressed the corona of her ear with his lips.

"Marry me. Marry me now, I can't wait. I am yours, just as I have always been."

Jon raced out the door and still made it to the lab on time. Only later, did he realize he had no lunch again and left the blue roses on the counter. He had been working on DNA coding sequences for hours it seemed. He finally took a minute to check his phone.

 **Yes & in front of the first heart tree we find**

Jon read the text and for the first time in days, his world righted itself.

 **BTW you forgot lunch & roses I can fix that**

 **Meet you where?**

Jon realized that it was late and he needed to text Sansa back. _Guess, she could just bring the roses to me at the unit. It would be nice to introduce her to Marg._

 **Meet me at the unit 130 ok**

Sansa didn't text back. That usually meant she was busy and would just follow through. He just arrived and was talking to Marg.

"Is it ok if my girlfriend brings me lunch and the miniature roses I promised Mrs. Gary?"

"Sure, we love guests. Will she stay a while and enjoy our hospitality?"

"Probably, she's great with people. You'll really like her. She's the kind of person that can find a nice thing to say to everybody."

"Even Mr. Frey?"

"Sure, even Mr. Frey."

"Wow, she must be someone special."

"Trust me, she is."

Jon's phone vibrated and he knew it was Sansa.

 **Can you let me in?**

She was at the door to the unit. He walked down the hall to key her in. Maybe once she spent some time here, she could help him think more clearly. Figure out what was driving him so crazy.

"Thanks for opening the Tardis for me."

"It's another world in here. Actually, everybody here is in their own personal world."

Sansa gave Jon a quick kiss and handed him the lunch bag she had filled with grapes, turkey and cheese on a fresh bagel, and a bottled water. She held the two miniature rose bushes in a wicker basket she must have dug up at home. She even tied a blue ribbon around it. _This is why I love her so._

As they walked down the hall toward the day room, Mrs. Gary came up the hall. She was walking slowly, then stopped and seemed to reorient herself. She looked straight at Sansa and broke into a run. She didn't even seem to see Jon. She pulled Sansa into her arms and held her, rocking back and forth. After a few long seconds, she stepped back and just gazed at her, never letting go of her shoulders.

"Catelyn, Catelyn, you came. Oh, how sweet you are to bring me a housewarming gift from your garden." she cried taking the basket with the blue roses and clutching it to her chest with one hand and holding on to Sansa with the other.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just go with it." Jon prompted as he backed away from Sansa and Mrs. Gary.

"I have so many questions." continued Mrs. Gary.

"I'm glad you like the roses." replied Sansa tentatively, wondering if she had any answers.

"How is the baby? He's got to be a toddler by now. How time slips away, doesn't it."

"The baby?" She quickly realized that this woman must have known her mother more than 20 years ago. Ok, one baby, must be Robb. "He's a big boy now."

"And Ned? Still working day and night at the hospital?" she asked.

"As always." Ok that was a safe answer. She wished that Jon would come over and save her. "Umm... I've got to a... make a call. I'll be right back"

At that, Mrs. Gary released her, still beaming the happiest smile ever. "I'll get tea and we can talk."

"Be right back." Sansa gave her a peck on the cheek. She sensed it was the right thing to do, unsure of why, but it felt right. Then she hurried down the hall to find Jon.

"Holy shit, you were right! But, how does she know me. No, how does she know Mom and Dad? How does she know about Robb?"

"I don't know. That's just how this place makes me feel all the time. I mean, she might have known your parents. That's not too crazy. But, the baby? So you actually think she means Robb?"

"She wants to have tea. YOU are coming with me for tea! I don't know what she'll say or ask."

Sansa took him by the hand with a yank and they walked together down the hall toward where Mrs. Gary was still waiting. Jon lead the way out to the garden and got them situated at a table under a tree.

"Jon you're going to join us? Wonderful."

"Yes, I am. I'll go get us some tea. You two just relax."

"What a nice young man. So thoughtful, too. I can't even make you tea. I haven't unpacked everything yet. Don't know why. Too anxious, I guess."

"That's just fine."

"At least I have these roses. That should get me going. A piece of home. It's been a while since I've had a proper kitchen."

"You will, just give yourself a chance. How long have you been here?" Sansa surprised herself by asking the first question.

"Not that long. A few days, perhaps. You know how antsy I can get."

Just in time, Jon arrived at the table with three cups of tea. He distributed the cups and emptied his pocket of sugar packets and stirs.

"Hope nobody wanted lemon." he joked as he sat down between the two.

"This is just fine. Jon, how do you always manage to save my day?" asked Mrs. Gary.

"That's what I'm here for, I guess. Just to have tea with two beautiful ladies."

Sansa was watching Mrs. Gary as she spoke to Jon, when she saw it. It was just a glint in her grey eyes. Northern grey eyes. She took a deep breath, then swallowed hard. Her father's grey eyes. Arya's grey eyes. Jon's grey eyes, that she knew so well.

"Catelyn, how did you know I was here? I haven't even gotten my phone installed. I wanted to call but, I can't find my address book. It must be in one of the other boxes. Well, at least you're here."

"Yes, I'm here and..."

"Ray should be here soon with the baby. I've been waiting for days. He said he'd join me as soon as he could. I know, he'll come today. You're here. This has to be my lucky day."

It was something in Sansa's gut and she knew that she just had to go with it. Even if it was absurd or impossible. Besides, if she said something crazy, would it even register with Mrs. Gary? Most likely she wouldn't even remember this conversation or who brought the roses. Maybe she would, if it fit into her delusions. Either way, could it hurt?

Sansa glanced in Jon's direction. He was trying to figure out what was going on. In other words, what was the next point of conversation. Sansa took a sip of her tea. Jon did the same. Sansa composed herself by reaching across the table and taking Jon's hand. She held on to him as if her life depended on it. With another deep breath she began to speak.

"Lyanna, I know that Ned would love to see you."

"Lyanna. Oh, Cat, nobody has called me that name in years. They couldn't pronounce it, so I told people to call me Anna. It was easier."

"Actually, I'm Sansa Stark. I look a lot like my mother, Catelyn. Ned Stark is my father. You…. you're my father's sister. We always thought you were dead." She paused, allowing the woman across from her process the information.

Jon sat in stunned silence, wondering if this was real or if he had finally lost his mind. Sansa entwined her fingers with his and continued.

"May I call you Aunt Lyanna, because I have one more thing to tell you."

Sansa reached out her other hand and laid it on the other woman's hand. She could feel her tremble as she turned it over to clasp it tightly in anticipation.

"Aunt Lyanna, this is Jon. This is your son, your baby. He's all grown up. You have been waiting for him for a long time, much longer than you realize."

She stared at Jon. Sansa saw the true resemblance in their eyes. Something immutable. Something truly Stark in their grey eyes.

Lyanna raised her hand to touch Jon's face. She ran her hand over his cheek as tears cascaded down her face.

"Are you, such a grown man, really my baby boy?"

"I believe I must be, if you are Lyanna Stark, then I am your son." answered Jon, stunned and frozen in his chair.

He didn't know how to take her hand or if touching her would break the spell and all of this would be gone. His mother. His mother? Then he looked, really looked, into her eyes. He saw his reflection. He saw Uncle Ned, he saw Arya. He saw his own Stark grey eyes. He saw the face of his mother, from a million memories ago, looking down at her baby boy, smiling.

"I guess, I can stop worrying about that crib. All I need to worry about now is, when your father will arrive."

This was Lyanna Stark. Now all they had to do was find a way to prove it.


End file.
